


The Afters—The Byway

by x_art



Series: The Afters [1]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Episode Tag, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-01
Updated: 2011-04-01
Packaged: 2017-10-17 10:32:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/175929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/x_art/pseuds/x_art
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on "The Angel Maker"</p><p>This is the first of what will be a series of short stories based around episodes. They'll be in no particular order and feature Hotch/Rossi as well as the rest of the characters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Afters—The Byway

***

 

 _Hotch: I’m just gonna to grab my bag._

 _Prentiss: What?_

 _Rossi: You’re not coming?_

 _Hotch: I, uh… I think I’m gonna drive._

 _Prentiss: Ah, it’s over seven hours back to Quantico._

 _Hotch: I really shouldn’t be flying._

 _Prentiss: <nods>_

 _Rossi: I’ve done that drive before. You’ll see a lot of pretty country along the byways. You might consider stretching it out a day or two._

 _Hotch: <nods> Maybe I will. Thanks._

 

 

***

 

Pulled out of a light sleep, Aaron raised his head slightly. Someone had just come in—a rectangle of light shot across the bedspread and up the wall, disappearing as the door was shut.

He didn’t turn over, didn’t get up. He knew who was creeping into his motel room at— He squinted at the cheap clock radio numbers that stated it was ‘one-nineteen,’ in bright red.

He shut his eyes and cracked a smile, trying to hear sounds he’d become familiar with in the course of the last few months—the thud of a bag being dropped, the soft jangle of keys being laid carefully on the dresser, then softer, the almost-silent tread of footsteps crossing the room. But, thanks to a car bomb, his hearing was still a problem—beyond the constant buzzing that had once again muted to a whisper, all he heard was the cotton-wool sound of air rushing against his eardrums.

The mattress dipped and he rolled with it as the intruder leaned over to see if he was awake.

He didn’t bother with feigning sleep—he was too glad and faking never worked anyway, not with Dave. “It took you long enough,” he said without opening his eyes.

Dave breathed a laugh. He turned on the lamp. “You didn’t make it easy.”

Dave’s voice was muffled and he hoped his hearing returned to normal sooner rather than later—one of the things he loved about Dave was the harsh rasp of his voice. “ _‘Byways,’_ you said, so I used byways.”

Dave kissed his shoulder through his t-shirt. “ _‘Byways’_ didn’t mean holing up in a town so small it doesn’t even have a bar.”

“It does so have a bar,” he said primly. “It has two. One is three blocks west. You just got here too late.”

“So it’s my fault I can’t get a drink?” Dave whispered as he lay on the bed, as he pressed against Aaron’s back.

Dave smelled of the aftershave Aaron had bought him a few months ago on a whim, of wool and leather and, oddly enough, of the road. As if he’d been traveling for years, only now coming in from the cold.

Hw smiled at his imagination, at the way it made him feel, the idea of Dave as a wanderer. “So how’d you find me?”

“How do you think?”

“Garcia?”

“Hmm-mm. We owe her big time. Or so she says.”

He turned over finally, tipping his head for Dave’s kiss. “I’m almost afraid to ask.”

“What does she want in return?” Dave murmured against his lips.

“Hmm-mm.”

“She says she’ll have to chew on it.”

“Hmm.” And then, because he had to, he asked, “Does she know, do you think??”

“About us?” Dave kissed his chin then his jaw, nosing his head up so he could get to his neck. “Probably. Does it bother you?”

Dave’s beard scratched and he smiled at the shiver of pleasure that slid through his body. “Considering the BAU’s rules, yes, of course.”

Dave pulled back. “I thought we talked about this.”

“We did,” he hedged. Because they had, more than a few times, mostly in the beginning when he’d tried to stop whatever it was they’d so foolishly started. Arguments thrown up like a hastily made wall, fragile and tenuous, easily surmounted by Dave’s calm logic.

The last time—the final time almost three months ago now—he’d brought out the same reasons, and Dave, angry but using that soft voice that got under every single one of his defenses, had accused him of letting his fears guide his decisions, that it wasn’t that big a deal. That he and Ray and Gideon had made the rules and he could break them if he wanted.

Aaron had countered that Strauss wouldn’t see it that way, but his resolve had weakened—he wanted Dave, wanted to see where the relationship led. Dave, always keen to recognize when he’d won both the battle and the war, had grabbed his arms and reeled him in, kissing him fiercely, muttering something about, _‘screw Erin and the BAU, anyway.’_

Aaron had smiled then and, remembering, he smiled now. But he didn’t want to talk about work. He still had two days free and he was going to use them. “I didn’t hear a car. How did you get here?”

Dave hesitated, then nodded as if answering Aaron’s unspoken suggestion to leave work things behind. “A buddy of mine flew me out to the Morgantown airport and a friend of his dropped me off here. He owed me one.”

“‘A buddy,’” Aaron quoted suspiciously. “You have more ‘buddies’ than anyone I know.”

Dave shrugged absently and pushed Aaron’s t-shirt up so he could stroke his stomach. “Are you jealous?”

Aaron stretched into the familiar touch with a soft grunt. His body was waking up, every muscle tensing and relaxing at the same time. Like Pavlov’s dog. “Of course not.” Even though he sort of was. “I’m just wondering why he owes you one.”

Dave toed off his shoes and swung his legs up on the bed. He rolled to his side. “Remember Frank Tolliver?”

Aaron frowned. The name rang a bell— “Yes. The Chicago pharmacist who poisoned his patients because he thought it was the only way they’d get to heaven?”

“‘The Elysian Fields,’ he called it—he’d studied the classics in college. And now that I think about it, he had a lot of things in common with Cortland Ryan—egotistical, narcissistic.” Dave stared off into space, then shook his head. “Anyway, Henry—my friend—was a beat cop and the one that suggested calling us in.”

“Tolliver was one of your first cases.”

“He was.” Dave nodded, still stroking Aaron’s stomach, but slowly now, as if he were somewhere else. “Before the BAU was nothing more than a spark of an idea. I was so young back then. So damn young. I’d seen a lot by then, but—”

He shook his head as if shaking the memory free, then said in a more normal voice, “So, Hank gets a tip one night and we go out to this abandoned tenement by the El.”

“I remember—it was in your first book. Henry was the officer that Tolliver jumped and almost killed.”

“Yeah, that was him. I heard shouting and I go charging up to this room on the second floor. It was like a nest—papers everywhere, lab equipment scattered about like something from a Hammer film and Henry’s on the floor with this bastard over him with a needle in his neck. I was so scared I could barely breathe.”

“But you got Tolliver and your friend lived.”

Dave nodded. “Barely. I dragged Tolliver off Hank, then got him in cuffs. I called for back-up and an ambulance—it was touch and go for a while.”

“What happened?” Aaron knew, but he liked hearing Dave’s stories about the BAU’s past.

“It took almost four hours for Tolliver to tell us what was in the syringe. By then, Hank was in a coma. The doctors didn’t know what the compound was, just that it was a paralytic that mimicked a stroke. He was in rehab for months. By the time he was back on his feet, he had some mental problems to deal with, as well.”

“PTSD.”

“Yep. He lasted a couple years at a desk, then retired early. He’s been a pilot for the last five.”

“He was lucky.”

“He is,” Dave nodded agreement. “He managed to buck the odds and make it out alive.”

Aaron stopped Dave’s restless hand and laced their fingers together. “No, I mean, he was lucky because you were there.”

Dave looked up. “How so?”

“Because most men would have shot Tolliver, making it impossible to get the antidote. Because you knew to use Tolliver’s weakness for adulation against him to get him to confess what drugs he’d used.”

Dave cocked his head. “How do you remember all that?”

“I told you, I’ve read your books.”

“And, you have a good memory. So,” Dave whispered against his lips, into his mouth, “how’s your hearing? Do your ears still hurt?”

“I’m fine.”

Dave nipped his lower lip. “Don’t lie to me, Aaron.”

He shrugged. Just as it was no good playing possum with Dave, it was also no good lying to him. He knew him too well. They knew eachother too well. “I almost got t-boned as I was coming into town. I forgot and used the horn. The buzzing’s been worse since then.”

“And the pain?”

“Better.”

Dave let that small lie slide. “Did you get a plate?”

“Yes, but he lost me at an intersection. I notified the locals.”

Dave grazed his cheek and his temple with his lips, then moved down to his ear. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I promise not to yell or,” he licked the rim of Aaron’s ear, “or shout when we make love.”

The whisper made Aaron shiver again, this time a long ripple from the back of his neck down and he arched up. “That’s never going to happen. It’s congenitally impossible for you to be silent during sex.”

Dave pulled back, a gleam in his eye. “Is that a challenge?” He punctuated his dare with his fingertips, sliding them just under the waistband of Aaron’s shorts.

He pressed his lips together. “Maybe.”

Dave grinned and kissed him again, this time at the hollow of his throat and then down, mouthing his chest through his t-shirt, humming under his breath.

Aaron kicked off the covers and closed his eyes as desire overtook him, wondering how much he’d just screwed up.

***

A lot, as it turned out.

He didn’t know if it was the fact that the motel was mostly empty, that they were on their own and the rest of the team was hundreds of miles away. Or that, Dave, when he put his heart into it, was an unstoppable force. An unstoppable force that used his mouth and hands to unfair advantage. Kissing the insides of his thighs, running his fingers lightly over the hair on his legs until Aaron was the one moaning, babbling words he forgot the minute they passed his lips. Until he was splayed out on the bed, shirt and shorts somewhere on the floor, hands fisted in Dave’s hair, gasping because it felt so good, the cool air combined with Dave’s hot mouth.

And in the end, he didn’t know if it was his damaged hearing or his own suffocating heartbeat that muffled the sound of his cries as he came, curled up over Dave.

***

A bark of laughter woke him out of his light daze. The sound came from outside, loud enough to be heard through the window. He listened for a moment, waiting for more. When nothing happened, he lay back down.

“They’ve been out there for about an hour,” Dave said sleepily behind him.

He turned over. “You want me to go out there?”

Dave grinned, but didn’t open his eyes. The bed was small—he was on the edge of the mattress, facing Aaron. “I’d love to do that. Send my big, bad, FBI boyfriend to kick some local butt.”

“They’d hardly know I’m your boyfriend.” The word felt clumsy on his lips.

“But that’s what they’d think,” Dave said with a shrug. “At least, that’s what the lady at the desk thought when I said we’d share a room. And you know how small towns talk.”

He nodded. “Yeah.” They were always so careful. It was the way it needed to be, of course. But still…

But still…

He rolled to his side and reached for Dave’s hand. “You’re too far away. Come here.”

Dave came with a small smile, sliding under the covers until they were crushed together, legs and arms tangled. “It’s odd,” he said after a moment.

“What’s odd?”

“The protection thing. In my past relationships, there was never any doubt who was protecting who. My wives always looked to me to investigate noises, to deal with problems.”

“Did you ever ask them to help?” Aaron said, a little pointedly.

Too pointedly—Dave shrugged and said dryly, “No. They weren’t the type to accept, if you get my meaning.”

It wasn’t a surprise—Dave attracted a wide variety of women, but he’d married the same kind. Over and over and over. “Does it bother you?”

“What do you mean?”

It was Aaron’s turn to shrug. “That I can handle myself. That I don’t need you to rescue me.”

Dave leaned back so he could look Aaron in the eye. “Are you kidding? I love it. If I had my way, I’d leave everything up to you. Including the burglars.”

Aaron snorted and pulled Dave closer, wrapping his leg over his thigh. “I’ll keep that in mind the next time I hear a noise that needs investigating.”

“Yeah. I’ll do the shopping and cooking—you do the rest.”

Aaron snorted again, and then laughed when Dave rolled him over and slipped on top, heavy and warm.

He wanted to say, _‘It’s a deal,’_ or, _‘I bet you won't say that the next time you have to go to the store during the evening rush.’_ He also wanted to say, _‘I lied. Sometimes I do need rescuing,’_ but Dave was kissing him again, stopping his mouth, his words.

 

 

 _fin._

 


End file.
